Page 227 of Better When Shared
The flash of panic on Skylar’s face before she’d stalked off and slammed her cabin door kept replaying in my mind. It didn’t match the woman I’d known for five years through headsets and keyboards. The Skylar I knew commanded our guild raids with confident authority, told dirty jokes that made me blush, and once ordered me to edge myself for three days straight during a particularly intense sexting session.
“So you’re going to sit there and fix her porch like some kind of... lumberjack fantasy?” Kiaan’s voice cut through my thoughts again.
I looked up, unable to control my urge to flirt. “You have lumberjack fantasies? I could help with those.”
“Fuck off. Why don’t we call a car, find a hotel, and give her space? We could be relaxing at a nice cafe like normal human beings instead of... whatever this is.” He gestured at me and the tools.
Hui clicked her tongue. “No hotels! What a waste of money. You stay here. Skylar has space.”
I turned back to the railing, focusing on the next loose board. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
Hui waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you know Skylar. She’s always so anxious. She probably needs a minute to process.”
The comment made me pause. “That’s the thing. I don’t think of her as anxious.”
Hui snorted. “Oh, please. I thought you both knew her well!”
“She’s not. Not online, anyway. In the game, she’s...” I trailed off, not sure how to explain to Skylar’s grandmother how she behaved in our virtual world.
“Confident,” Kiaan supplied. “Commanding.”
“Well, I suppose she’s a different person behind the screen,” Hui said. “The real Skylar is shy. But the real Skylar needs genuine connections. Not just pixels and text messages.”
“I find a genuine connection over text, too. There’s still a human being on the other side. And our friendship is strong. Has been for years.”
“If our friendship is so strong, why did she run away?” Kiaan asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell going to wait around and see if she’ll tell us. You guys have been there for me through a lot. Even years ago, when my mom was sick. You both stayed online with me when I needed it, and when it finally happened. I was...” I swallowed hard, remembering the blind panic, the way breathing became impossible when I was overwhelmed by grief.
Hui’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I’d been expecting it. Mom had been sick for a while. But I guess you can’t really ever...” I shook my head. “Anyway, you can’t tell me there’s no genuine connection there. Skylar talked me through panic attacks for months after. Kiaan stayed up late to raid with me when I couldn’t sleep. She and Kiaan are the reason I finished my firefighter training instead of dropping out.”
Across the yard, Kiaan had stopped pacing, watching me with an unreadable expression.
I tightened the final screw, testing the rail one more time. Rock solid now. I moved on to the next section. “She doesn’t know how much she saved me,” I said simply, meeting Kiaan’s eyes. “Neither of them knows. So, even if she doesn’t want to see menow, I want to make sure she’s okay. And I’ll wait, even if it takes a few hours. I have time.”
Kiaan broke eye contact first, pacing away. “She has every right to be upset. We showed up unannounced because her grandmother decided to play games.”
Hui laughed, waving her hand. “I wouldn’t call them games. Just a push in the right direction.”
He huffed and walked out to the end of the driveway, then circled back. Hui pulled out her phone and started reading something, and I went back to work, checking every board on her small porch railing, then tightening the screws on the steps and the decking.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when we finally heard a sound from inside, but the sun was way lower in the sky, and Kiaan had wandered all over the property—though never within petting distance of the horses. We all went quiet for a moment, and I glanced towards the cabin door just as it creaked open.
I nearly dropped the screwdriver I was holding.
Skylar stood in the doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest like armor. I’d seen her a thousand times through pixelated video calls and profile pictures, but they hadn’t captured the details, and I drank those in. The slight upturn of her nose or how her bangs fell across her forehead, teal highlights catching the afternoon light. My mouth went dry as I took her in—all five-foot-two of her compact frame radiating a mixture of annoyance and resignation.
Her dark eyes moved from me to Kiaan and back again, lingering momentarily on the newly repaired railing. A flush crept up my neck as she studied my handiwork. Something about her scrutiny made me feel more exposed than I had, even during our late-night text sessions, when she’d coaxed confessions from me I’d never shared with anyone else.
“So.” Her voice was huskier in person, with a slight rasp that sent warmth spreading through my chest. “My grandmother invited you both here without telling me. And I’m guessing she was crafty enough that you thought I wanted you here.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway, heat crawling up my cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, meaning it. “We didn’t know that she invited us without your permission. We would never have put you on the spot like this.”
“I wasn’t crafty! But I may have stretched the truth a little,” Hui said, standing up and brushing off her skirt. “Well, you three have fun. I’ve got errands to run!”
